Simcronomicon

The Simcronomicon is a powerful spell book. Any hapless soul that lay their eyes on its tattered face and its arcane pages are cursed by its ritual. But a curse is a blessing in disguise. The Simcronomicon, though its origins is unknown, grants any wish to its victim.

As its pages are bound by an evil and arcane essence, failure to complete any ritual would guarantee damnation.

Be tempted. Pick a challenge and enjoy.*

*requires Sims 4 and a sadistic curiosity towards virtual people.

December 22, 2014

The decor was arranged to
relax clients and patients. The walls were painted dark red, and the
furniture were all made in leather. The windows were wide open,
inviting the fresh air that hailed from the mountains. Medical books
and journals were arranged in alphabetic order at one bookcase, while
another was filled with children books.

Sisi was lying down
adjacent to Dr. Wright. She stared at the ceiling, concentrating at
the blank, white space above her. She then clenched her teeth and
then squeezed her eyes, staving off the pain that assaulted her mind.

"Have you been taking
your medications?" asked Dr. Wright.

"I have, and they get
me to sleep. But..." said Sisi.

Dr. Wright looked from his
writing pad, waiting for Sisi to continue.

"But I can't take
them anymore."

"Why is that?"

"When I get to sleep,
I return to that house."

"The abandoned
house?"

Sisi nodded. "They
try to pull me in, get me stuck in that house. I fight them off.
Ghosts. You know they can be punched or kicked just like any other?
Maybe in my dreams. I'm not sure if they're dreams anymore. When I
get free, I run out of that house only to come back to it."

"Then how do you
escape?"

"I drown."

Dr. Wright wrote on his
pad. The notes were separation anxiety, guilt, abandonment issues.

"I drown myself until
I come back to reality. But the crazy thing is, I cough out water."

"And you're sure it's
not spittle or phlegm."

She shook her head and
turned to Dr. Wright. Her eyes had the hint of defeat and of
sleepless nights.

After their session, Dr.
Wright prescribed the same medication but with a higher dosage.
Sisi's narcolepsy had become a problem to her career. At the behest
of her agent, she was scheduled to meet with her doctor every week to
find a cure or at least a reprieve from her malaise.

When Sisi stepped out of
the doctor's office, the sims in the waiting room recognized her.
Even the affluent of Bridgeport asked for her autograph or a selfie.
Sisi always agreed to it, and she forced her smiles.

Before she stepped out in
public, Sisi wore her sunglasses. She checked herself on the mirror
and fixed her hair, making sure she looked good for the paparazzi. At
the edges of the mirror, Sisi saw them staring at her, peeking from
the edges—the ghosts she had left behind.

Sisi rocked back and forth
with the screaming book close to her chest.

"Where are you? I
can't see anything!" said Isabel. Sisi told her that everything
was going to be alright, that she will take care of her no matter
what. She stood up from the floor and walked outside into the cool
midnight.

"I'm scared,"
said Isabel, her voice muffled through the book.

Sisi ran faster. She
planned to leave everything behind and start anew in Bridgeport.
Growing old and turning gray didn't scare her anymore. Not after
this. She stretched her arm out and hailed for a cab. When she got
in, she told the driver to head for the airport.

"No luggage?"
asked the cabbie. Sisi shook her head. When the cab jumped forward,
Sisi appeared in the middle of her mansion. Believing she was
hallucinating, Sisi closed her eyes and forced herself awake.

"Mom? What's
happening?" said Isabel.

When Sisi opened her eyes,
she was still in the mansion. The indoor lights were out, but the
moon glowered outside. Sisi exited through the front door and ran
from the mansion. After thirteen steps, Sisi returned to the living
room. She tried again, this time through the back door. She ran past
the greenhouse, and after thirteen steps, she was back in the
mansion. Sisi fell to her knees.

"Complete the
ritual," said The Third, speaking through Sisi's mouth,
"complete the ritual, and you can be free."

Her tears pelted the
leather cover of Isabel's tome. Sisi begged The Third to take her
soul in place of her daughter's. Grant Isabel immortality rather than
herself.

"You think I want
your tainted soul? Complete the ritual!"

Sisi sobbed at the inhuman
tone of her voice. She stood up shaking and ambled towards the
greenhouse. She knelt down next to an empty pot and planted Isabel's
seed thus silencing her.

Powerless against the
force inside, Sisi took all thirteen books from the bookcase and
brought them all inside her mansion. The dining table was turned into
a makeshift altar. While holding their book, she summoned the souls
by invoking their name. At the last book, Sisi struggled to utter her
daughter's name.

The souls appeared, their
essence brightening the unlit room. They roamed her estate, wondering
why they were summoned. Although Sisi was at the thick of it all, not
one soul saw her—it was as if she was invisible.

Isabel and Cayden were
finally reunited, but Isabel was still shaken after her recent death.

"Where are we?"
asked Isabel, reaching out to Cayden and embracing him.

"It's your mother.
Something to do with your mother,"

Isabel shook her head.

The ghosts screamed and
ducked at something Sisi couldn't see. They watched the ceiling, and
some huddled in the middle of the room. Something was trying to grab
them. One of the ghosts flew backwards and was sucked into the walls.
Another was picked from the ceiling and was gone. Cayden burst into
bright red and dissipated in the air. Isabel sunk into the floor. She
locked eyes with Sisi, and before she could call and reach out to her
mother, she was already consumed by the house.

Stillness came. Sisi sat
on the floor, pulled her knees to her chest and cried. She tried to
purge all her guilt and all her regrets, but there was no end to her
tears.

Morning came. No one spoke
to her—not The Third, not Isis. Routine resumed, and the birds'
song and the sidewalk bustle broke the silence. She was alone.

There was clarity, an ugly
clarity: she finally got what she wanted. She chose this path; the
burden was hers. Sisi stood from the floor and stepped out of her
mansion. She sauntered away, took fourteen steps and never returned.

December 21, 2014

Sisi saw Isabel approach from the road,
and she braced herself for the voices to ruin her day. Both, however,
were silent. Isabel stopped a few feets from the bench and stared at
her mother. Sisi asked her to sit down.

"What do you want from me?"
asked Isabel, crossing her arms.

Sisi asked for forgiveness and an
opportunity to reconnect.

"Isn't it a little too late?"

Sisi shook her head. It's never too
late.

Isabel sighed and sat down. Sisi
watched Isabel, waiting, anticipating on what she would say. She was
tempted to look at the book, to read what's in her mind. But she
hesitated.

"It's funny you chose this place,"
said Isabel, "I'd pester dad to take me here after school. Of
course I'll do my homework. Sometimes I'd say I did, but not really.
He would always take me here though. He'd play the sea monster, and
me the pirate."

She then turned to the small pond next
to them, "We were a team. I'd catch fish and he would cook them.
Sometimes I'd get cowplant seed. We always tossed those out."

Sisi nodded, pretending she had heard
this for the first time.

Isabel sighed and said, "So, what
do you want to talk about?"

Isabel warmed up to Sisi after that day
at the park. Sisi would visit her home, and when Isabel showed up at
her mansion, Sisi would always take her to the park. When Isabel
asked why they couldn't hang out in her mansion, Sisi made an excuse
that the inside was in disrepair and in need of sprucing up. She
would then segue to another topic, a feat that only a charismatic
could do flawlessly.

Stories were exchanged; memories
shared. Sisi spoke about her escapades, where some facts were changed
for the sake of decency. She also bragged about her mastery in the
arts and the achievements she had reaped. When the daily bonding
happened at Isabel's home, Sisi would overwhelm her daughter's senses
with a home-cooked meal.

"I hope it's not blood from
virgins," Isabel said, giggling at her own joke. "Well,
whatever it is, I hope it's genetic and that I get it from you."

Months passed. Sisi had almost
forgotten about the ritual of the thirteen, but the toll of time
reminded her about it. Isabel's hair was turning gray.

"Do you like it?" asked
Isabel. Sisi nodded hesitantly.

The lines on her face deepened, and the
skin on her arms stiffened. Sisi felt a hollowness as she watched her
daughter wither away.

Then there was the blotch of darkness
that waited at Isabel's sidewalk. Sisi paid no mind to it, believing
her eyesight was deteriorating. But during one of her visits, Sisi
walked towards the lingering darkness. As she drew near it, it shrunk
until it was gone. When Sisi walked away, the darkness slowly
returned to its original size. From the window, Isabel sighed as she
watched her mother struggle with her insanity. Yet Isabel opened the
door before Sisi could knock. She greeted her mother with a hug.

The week after, Sisi called if Isabel
was available, but she didn't answer. Sisi took out Isabel's book and
flipped it to the latest entries. She screamed at what she had read
and rushed out the door to hail for a cab.

When she arrived at Isabel's home, she
flew to the front door, fumbled for her keys and pushed the door
open. On the floor lay Isabel, her essence emanating from her
lifeless body.

SHOULDN'T YOU BE HAPPY? WASN'T THIS
YOUR WISH?, said a voice. It revealed itself to Sisi. It was the
darkness that had waited outside. It slowly formed into the entity
called Death. Sisi fell to the floor. She held her daughters hand and
could still feel the warmth that remained inside.

Then the voices returned inside her
head. Isis wanted to plead for Isabel's life. But The Third wanted to
insult Death, to tell Death that the daughter's soul belonged to The
Third. And the droning noise returned, the incessant garble that
tortured her mind.

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR. And Death
summoned his scythe and released Isabel from her body. The book cried
and screamed inside Sisi's purse. She took it out. It trembled and
shook in her hands.